


Return to the Lake

by Firgolfin



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blood mentioned, Cullenlingus, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, Tumblr Prompt, Vaginal Sex, violence mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 17:32:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4573398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firgolfin/pseuds/Firgolfin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The battle is over, Corypheus defeated, but it has been close. Cullen and the Inquisitor are both still haunted by the memories of that last fight, and not only that: stress and duties and the Inquisition itself don't let them recover. So they decide to slip away and return to their lake, hopefully to find rest and peace. And some sexy times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Return to the Lake

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on a tumblr prompt by the lovely n7rogue: I really liked your smut fic, I think you should write more smut :) So, PROMPT: Cullen x Firgo get it on at the lake. Because elves love nature, first time they’re really alone, etc. It’s my favorite alternate canon that their first time together is at the lake, and the desk sex is just bc, you know, desk sex. ;)
> 
> Okay, it’s not exactly what you’ve asked for, but I hope you like it.

************

 

"It's so quiet here." Firgo smiled and tapped the still surface of the water with her naked toes.

"Yes, isn't it?" Cullen took a deep breath, inhaling the clear, yet still warm air, then closed his eyes for a moment before he continued observing the dark water. The soft waves which her toes had caused, they had a relaxing effect on him. The light movement and the reflected shimmer of the moonlight on its surface were almost hypnotic.

"This is why I always wanted to come back here. The silence, the peace," he added and she hummed approvingly, "It's been a while. I almost forgot."

They'd left Skyhold the night before to travel back to the lake–one of Cullen's most beloved places in Ferelden. And they'd left everything behind. Duties, tasks, emblems, titles. Guards. The whole Inquisition. Here and now they weren't the Inquisitor and the Commander, only Cullen and Firgo, both yearning for some silence, peace, love. And each other.

Shoes, armor pieces and weapons lay scattered across the planks, and they sat together in comfortable, light clothes.

And the atmosphere was almost, yet not enough to make him forget of what had happened. And of what _almost_ had happened.

"They are ugly, I know," Firgo mumbled and a fine blush crept up her neck while she was trying to cover the new scars with her hand. It was a warm evening and her thin tunic covered little, and Cullen noticed absentminded that he was staring at the only just healed wounds.

"No, not at all," he murmured, almost inaudible and more to himself. Again lost in memories.

There were three similar cuts, beginning at her neck and shoulders, wandering down her collarbone, and they ended just before reaching her breasts. He knew a similar three-lined scar, covered by her shirt, could be found at the side of her belly, down to her hips, the cuts down there even deeper.

"I hope they don't bother you too much," her shoulders stiffed as she was waiting for an answer. She stared at him.

"What?" he asked, then realized that she hadn't heard his words. _Shit._ "No! Sorry... no, not at all! They aren't ugly!"

There must had been something in his face, he couldn't tell if it was his shocked expression or something else, but she smirked and nodded, then said, "Scars can be sexy, can't they?" and her hand was on his cheeks, her thumb tracing the white line of his lip scar. He hummed and leaned into her touch, welcoming her gentle touch.

But still. Her smile wasn't as pure as it used to be. There was a hidden sadness, uncertainty lingering behind it. It bothered _her_. Of course it did. And there was more, it was not only about the scars.

And who would wonder about that. Yes, she was used to fight, used to be thrown in danger. Even used to get hurt. But she had been so close before dying _. So close_. Cullen himself still couldn't get rid of this–heart clenching, breath taking–thought of losing her. How to suppose that _she_ could? Only one split second, one fast and unexpected move of their enemy, and his world had stood still. The whole scene played up in his head again and again. That moment, when his claws grabbed at her, buried deeply into her skin, her flesh, her body, the body he'd caressed, worshipped, _loved_ so many times before, the woman he loved so much. Blood spilled. _Her_ blood. He still could hear her screams, full of pain and anger, then changing into panic, deathly angst. It had literally been the last second that he and Dorian had jumped in and saved her as Corypheus had tried to throw her over the edge and into the endless abyss.

Maker, if he hadn't insisted of accompanying her, maybe she... _No. Stop it now. It's over._

He tightened his grip around her waist and pulled her closer into his embrace. She rested her head on his shoulder and he felt the stiffness fading away, her body relaxing against his. He turned his head towards hers, his nose buried in her hair and breathed her scent in. She smelled of lavender and vanilla, as always. Familiar. Like _homecoming_ , and it helped him calm down as well, as it always did.

Of course both of them were worn out, still haunted by the events during the last weeks.

She–and that made things even worse–hadn't even had time to recover. To rest. To handle what had happened. When she'd felt better after the healer's work and a couple of days spent in her bed, sleeping most the time, there had been this gigantic party, organized by Josephine. To celebrate the Inquisition's victory. Skyhold had been full of people, and they both had to shake hands the whole evening.

And then the point had come when it had been enough and his control had snapped. He'd grabbed her hand and they'd just slipped away, fleeing from their own party, and he couldn't care less of what their guests would gossip about their disappearing. All he cared about was her.

She had to heal, and not only her body.

 

************

 

"A part of me wishes we hadn't to go back," Firgo said.

Cullen chuckled. "I know what you mean."

"Honestly–all the duties, all the meetings which are to be planned, it's too much. You know, I hadn't even left the bed when Josie and Leliana came and started talking and _talking_ and planning about that party and..."

"We can stay here as long as you want to."

"... and I had the urge to punch them right in their... wait. _What?"_

"We can stay as long as you want to," he repeated, smirking.

And there it was, the reaction he'd hoped for, if only for a moment. Her eyes lit up with joy, her mouth fell open, before doubt claimed her again, and she answered, "Really? I can't believe this. How did you... but don't they need us?"

"I don't care about that. I care about _you_."

"But, Leliana–"

"– knows. And she agreed."

"Really?"

_Leliana, look at her. She's still injured, and we push her back into the role of the Inquisitor already. Stop it! If she doesn't get a break now, she'll break. And I won't stand here, doing nothing but watching her suffer. And I couldn't care less about what some noble folks think about this–we'll leave. Now. And don't you dare to disturb us._

Yes, he completely understood his lover's anger about their behavior. None of them had seen–or they just didn't want to see–how fragile she was. Which wasn't normal for them, but they all had been drunken by victory, apparently.

_Enough of this._

"Really," Cullen confirmed now. "Hey, don't think about our return now." He gave her a lopsided smirk and nodded towards the lake, before continuing, "no Inquisition related matters, not here."

His words made her laugh. "Now you got me. _I_ told you that the last time we were here."

"Do you remember?"

The last time they'd been here. The first time. _Their_ first time. It must had been more than a year ago now since that trip that had changed so much for him, for them, and still, he remembered it as if it had been yesterday. The shyness, the awkwardness first, followed by uncertainty, and finally their love making. The first time she'd said _I love you_.

"Everything", she whispered now in a low tone and raised her head to face him. Her eyes shimmered in the soft moonlight, and he found his memories, his emotions, all of it, reflected in her expression. And he found even more. Her sorrows, her pain, slowly fading away.

"Thank you so much for bringing me here again. For doing this for me. I really needed that."

All this time, and the way she looked at him still made his stomach flutter, his limbs weak. _Closer,_ he thought and pulled her in for a gentle kiss. She obliged with a sigh, soft lips found his without hesitation, warm hands were placed on his cheeks, then stroked through his hair as she pulled him towards her. _Alive. Safe_. The words burnt on his tongue, he formed them, yet did not make a noise. She captured his bottom lip and nipped, her touch was so sweet, so gentle, so _grateful_ for him to just _be there_.

A shift of her body, and she sat in his lap, straddling him. She slipped closer.

"I know," this time the words left him with a sigh, he breathed against her lips before kissing her again. Her tongue traced above his lips, exploring, _tasting_ , and he welcomed her with his own wet tongue. The sensation of their touch sent sweet shocks through his body, his heart pounded in his chest, and he ached for more, for her, her touch, _all of her_. Embrace tightened, hips moved against each other and breaths became heavy. Cullen groaned softly, welcoming the change of the dynamic between them.

His hands wandered down her back, closing around her buttocks, kneading them, and she moaned.

Then she broke the kiss, smiling, "not here," she said and he grumbled disapprovingly.

"Someone's eager?" Her laughter filled the scenery and it sounded so much more lighthearted now. "Shall we go, then?"

"Yes," he half grinned, half moaned, as her body rocked against his in an unmistakable gesture, "please."

It wasn't quite easy to catch his breath, but she was right. As much as he ached to take her right here and now, the hard plank wasn't a comfortable place.

She blinked teasingly and rutted against him, rubbing alongside the bulge of his arousal, _again_ –he muttered " _Maker's Breath_ "–then the grip of her hips released him as she stood up and took his hands in hers. He followed her, and they stepped over the scattered armor pieces barefooted. She grabbed his fur mantle to take it with them as they went to visit that very place again where they'd had made love to each other for the first time.

 

************

 

For a while, they walked in silence, hands entwined, fingers caressing each other, and arousal hung between them heavily.

They rounded a part of the lake before heading into the woods.

"I think it was here?" Cullen asked as they followed a small path.

"Mhm. I'm not sure," she admitted with a light shrug, "but looks like it."

He chuckled. "Maker's breath, but I was nervous the last time."

" _You?_ " Her brows shot up, "I thought I would die from excitement."

"And I couldn't believe that it was really happening."

"Come on," she laughed, "you had planned this from the moment you brought me here," she smirked up to him.

"Maybe," he smiled back. "And then I nearly messed it all up. Oh Maker, I was unsure if you wanted this... _me_ , so I _might_ have been all awkward, well... was I?" he added after a short pause.

"What? Nonsense," she countered, maybe a tone too fast, and he saw her grin. "It was sweet," she admitted.

"Mhmm, sweet, yes? This is what every man loves to hear from–ah, there."

The path leaded them deeper into the woods, then opened into a small open place, surrounded by huge trees. A beautiful little shrine, just for them. Moss, grass, and larger and smaller rocks were plastered all around the place. Starlight, a shining moon. One of those places that looked like they'd just stumbled into a dream. Ridiculously romantic. The air around them smelled of nature, of _green_.

"Now I remember why I loved the woods," the elf said, inhaling deeply.

They stood, staring at the place for a moment in awe, remembering.

 

************

 

"Here we are again." Firgo threw the fur cloak over a nearby stone before leaning against it, hands placed on the stone, head laid to one side. She smiled up to him.

_Thank the Maker that she's alive._

For a moment he just stared. Almost not able to believe that this was real. That she was still alive, that she was _his._ That she loved him. His heart pounded even harder as he approached her, cupping her face in his hands, and he murmured, "yes, here we are," then leaned down to catch her lips in a gentle kiss. Just like he had done the last time, and it was the same and yet so much had changed.

His hands wandered down her waist and came to rest on her hips. His touch was soft and yet she winced slightly as he grabbed the fabric of her tunic to pull it above her head. "Oh," he whispered and took his hands away, "I'm–" but then she grabbed them and placed them on her hips again. "It's okay, Cullen. Everything's okay."

"Is it?"

"Yes... I want to... You know that. I'm just nervous."

"The scars?"

"...yes."

"They are part of you now," he said, his voice soft and low, "and I love _every_ part of you, Firgo. Please, allow me to show you... may I?" He smiled as she nodded, then pulled the tunic over her head. Trousers and smalls followed, and then she stood bare before him, staring at him with knitted brows, watching his reaction carefully. Obviously fighting the urge to cover herself, to cover the scars, her hands clenched into fists, but Cullen could only see _her._

He let his fingers–calloused but gentle–draw alongside the angry red lines on her skin without actually touching them.

"Maker's breath, but you are beautiful," he whispered, observing her as her expression softened; she let out a deep breath, then smiled–she believed him.

"Thank you," she whispered again, "for _everything_." She blinked a few times. Were there tears?

He took a small step forwards, closing the distance between their bodies, to hold her close, to feel her warmth. There was nothing more important in this world than to see– _make_ –this woman happy.

"Beautiful," he breathed against her skin as he kissed his way down her neck, putting little pecks on the scars, and his stubble tickled her skin and made her giggle. He followed her collarbone with his tongue, licking the soft skin, then his mouth found the soft curves of her small breasts. He closed his lips around a nipple and circled it with his tongue. Then he took it between his teeth; he bit, then sucked carefully, and her chuckle turned into a low moan, hands were grasping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and her chest rose and fell heavily. He caressed her other breast, then his mouth wandered down, kissing her rib cage, her belly.

Closing his hands around her buttocks, he grabbed the soft flesh firmly, then lifted her up and placed her upon the stone.

"You know, the last time we were here," he spoke, breathing hard already and leaned further down to kiss her navel, then her lower belly, "I wanted to do this, but didn't dare to." And he grabbed her thighs, spreading them, exposing all of her, and she gasped as his wet tongue flicked out to touch her most sensitive spot, _briefly_.

He smirked, then did it again–a brief touch, a fast lick, before he withdrew his tongue. A shudder went through her body–" _tease_!" she half moaned, half laughed, and the sound was like music to his ears.

"Yes, love?" he hummed and caught her gaze. His amber eyes were burning now. He knew that he was about to drive her crazy. And he would. Today he'd use all he had to make her forget everything else. "You like that?" he purred and his tongue snapped out a third time, a touch, a lick; she twitched and bucked forwards to meet his mouth.

"Y-yes... Cullen, please stop teas– _ah–_ " and then he was inside her, lapping and pushing, _pushing_ , his face all over buried in her lap, where wet heat began to spread, and he made love to her with his tongue. He lost himself into her. Her had fell back in a wordless cry, her back arched, one of her hands grabbed his hair tightly while the other clutched the stone in a desperate try to steady herself.

He laid one arm around her waist, supporting her and pulling her even closer; he felt her strong legs wrapping around him while he never stopped the sweet intrusion of his tongue into her body. The tip of his nose brushed over her clit and he breathed her in, savoring her smell, sweet and loving and _alive_ ; she twitched in his arms, _yes_ and _more_ and _Cullen_ escaped her lips in constant prayers and moans now.

He groaned against her slick folds and the vibration caused her to twitch again. Then he withdrew his tongue only long enough to replace it with his index finger, sinking it deeply into her, and his tongue was free for giving her what she needed most. He let it flick over her clit a few times and then caressed the sensitive and already swollen nub in earnest. A second finger joined the first and he pumped in a steady rhythm, moaning her name into her wetness, and her hands gripped his hair even tighter. Then her body stilled–and he knew that she was close. Closing his lips around her again, he sucked; she gasped loudly, _freely_ , and the muscles of her thighs and stomachs tightened, pressing against him.

"Yes _... yes..._ don't stop..." she panted and he sucked harder before circling her clit with his tongue in fast, little motions. He felt his own arousal in form of a steel-hard erection, pressing almost painfully against his trousers. Aching to be inside her already. But for now it was all about her. Her body began to tremble and he picked up speed again.

She came with a deep, stuttered moan, that one little noise she always made when she was pushed over the edge by him–by _him_ –, and the corners of his lips pulled up into a wide smile. Her inner walls contracted around his now slow pumping fingers, her whole body was trembling, and he held her tightly, savoring her release, breathing her in and and pure happiness flooded him again.

Watching and holding her while she was riding the waves of pleasure felt like his heart was about to burst; it was the most beautiful, most satisfying experience he'd ever made.

"Maker, Cullen," she managed to breath out finally and her hands fumbled around before finding him again and she pulled him up and towards her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, relishing the last bit of her lust while pressing his mouth on hers in a searing kiss, sharing the sweet taste of her own arousal with her.

Despite his own arousal–need–he could stand and kiss her forever, but soon she ripped at his clothes, eager again, and he chuckled quietly. "I love you. I... need you," she moaned and rubbed herself against the bulge of his groins. He answered with a thrust against her still swollen clit; she gasped again. She needed him. All of him. Just as he needed her.

"I love you, too."

Her fingers pulled at his tunic. "Take me," her voice was thick with lust and love, "show me."

He swallowed and nodded. Breathing had just become almost unbearably hard, and he freed himself from their embrace only long enough to undress himself, then he lay his arms around her smaller body again and leaned in to kiss her again.

But she had other plans–she shifted her hips forwards as far as it was possible from her position, and wrapped her legs around him again. One hand grasped the stone, the other closing around his shaft, she stroked him a few times, then released him again before rocking against him. She _pulled, pushed,_ all at once, the roll of her hips was precise, the muscles of her arms trembled and he gasped as her slick folds embraced his cock and he was buried inside her surprisingly.

 _Maker's––breath_! How did she...?

Grasping the stone with both hands now, her heels dig into his back, taking him further in, he pushed forwards, until their hips met and he was completely inside her. Breathing stopped just for a second, both relishing the feeling of finally being together again, and she still clung to him, refusing to let him pull back.

"Oh Maker, but I love you," he stared at her, gasping, "I love you so much. Where have you... where have you been all my life?"

She only smiled and yet he saw all his love, all his happiness reflected in one single gaze.

"I love you." A slow roll of his hips, a deep thrust and they moaned together. "Please," Another thrust. Harder now. "don't leave me. Don't you– _ever_ –leave me."

"Never," she promised, smiled, and her pelvis rocked forwards to meet his thrusts, "never. I promise. Maker, Cullen, _I love you so much."_

"Hold on," he tightened their embrace, barely noticing her slight wince as he pulled her up, her arms flew around his neck with a surprised little yell, and just a moment later she lay below him in the soft grass. He was bent above her, his cock still inside.

"I'm sorry," he panted, "does it hurt?"

"I don't care. I need... to _feel you. Closer,"_ _Yes, closer_. She pulled him down, until body was pressed against body, "all of you."

And he _made_ her feeling him, every _inch_ of him. He set a slow but intensive pace, thrusting into her again and again and he was incredibly hard and she was all wet and sweet while she moved under him, with him in an unhurried, steady rhythm.

Her nails crawled into the skin of his back, she called his name and he answered with pushing his hips down harder, deeper, making sure to rub along and stimulate her swollen clit with each snap of his hips. He knew that the friction raised her pleasure, and she was still so sensitive for his touch that it was enough, she stilled again and he knew he was about to bring her towards her next orgasm. He felt the fire pooling down in his own abdomen already–he was barely able to hold himself back from spilling into her.

Her eyes were closed, her mouth half opened in silent pleasure as he watched her while driving in and out of her. "Look at me," he whispered, and her eyes snapped open, fixated on his face; he smirked and then watched them going wide as he lifted up her pelvis and began thrusting fast and hard.

"Come for me, love," he purred in a low tone, using his voice to bring her closer; she clung to him, and with his next deep thrust orgasm hit her again and she threw her head back in a wordless scream.

He reached his peak just a moment later, movements became erratic, rhythm was lost and he followed her; he groaned freely, overwhelmed by the intensity of their connection, the heath, love, _everything,_ and after the last drop of his seed was inside her he could barely stop himself from crushing down and onto her body.

Just as the waves of pleasure were fading, he grabbed her tightly, then rolled around, switching their positions until he lay on his back, the lightweight elf above him. He was still inside her, none of them willing to break their connection.

Their bodies stopped trembling after a while, sweat dried and pulses slowed down. He massaged her back lazily, and she hummed satisfied, her warm breath caressed his ear. The sensation of the weight of her body above him which moved with every rise and fall of his own chest made him feel a deep satisfaction and inner calm.

And this moment of bliss finally was it, realization blew away everything else.

"You're alive," at last he found the words that burnt inside him for so long, "Oh thank the Maker, you're _alive._ "

"As are you _, ma vhenan_ ," she whispered and he blinked in surprise. She barely ever used that term of her people. She'd always told him that her connection to the Dalish wasn't very deep. But here in the woods, maybe... it brought her closer to...

"Shit," she cursed suddenly, breaking his thoughts. Her hand flipped to her back and she hit her own butt with a smack.

He raised a brow, "What was that?"

"A mosquito!"

"Oh!"

"It... bit my ass!"

So much for the woods.

Cullen snorted at the pure indignation in her voice and she frowned, but only just for a moment.

Then they laughed together, freely, and he knew whatever was about to come, they would face it.

And they would heal. Together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> To be honest, I'm not quite satisfied with that piece, the amount of words made editing and correcting mistakes even more difficult than usual. The result is that I miss the "flow" a bit. This, and maybe I'm too hard on myself. *shrugs*


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